Collapse
by Gaeshi
Summary: The Magus Association, the Church and the Dead Apostles. The world's three major powers competing for the omnipotent wish granting machine; now that's what you call true war.
1. Isn't it sad Sacchin?

-insert usual disclaimer here-

Enjoy.

* * *

**Two Days Ago: Isn****'t it sad, Sacchin?**_  
_

_I had a normal life._

She remembered running through her childhood fields as the wind blew past her, rustling her hair and caressing her skin.

She remembered waking up in the mornings, refreshed and ready to take on the new day.

She remembered toiling through mundane chores and doing homework like the good girl she was expected to be.

She remembered coming home everyday to a family that loved and cherished her.

She remembered the joy of finally speaking with her crush, of seeing that gentle smile, of the hope of a bright future.

Then, she remembered that night.

_I wasn't always this way._

* * *

It was the night of the full moon.

A sixteen year old girl was walking aimlessly through Misaki city's business district. Well not exactly aimlessly; the way she scrutinized the pedestrians around her and her worried expression made it seem like she was looking for someone. And whoever it was that she was looking for must've meant a lot to her because Yumizuka Satsuki's current discomfort was quite obvious.

Normally, her presence in the crowd wouldn't be much of an oddity. Sure it's a bit late and there's school the next day, but many considered this part of the appeal of sneaking out at night. As if drawn to a sense of newfound freedom and considering all other responsibilities to be ignorable, teens can often be found wandering the streets of Misaki alone, if only to be swallowed by the city's bustling night life moments later.

But of course, this was before the serial killings began. So far, eight teenage girls have already fallen victim, and their murders were anything but orthodox. They say that each had a set of bite marks positioned near the back of their necks and had lost a substantial amount of blood through this cut. It's really no wonder then, that rumours have been circulating around town about the possibility of a "vampire epidemic".

_I don't really believe any of that though. It's probably just the work of some sick attention seeker. After all, vampires don't exist, right?…RIGHT?_

Finishing this consoling thought with a pump of her fists, Satsuki resumed her search.

Half an hour passed. Thankfully, by this time, Satsuki's heart has finally calmed down. Her adrenaline rush was also almost over, but her overall mood has improved by quite a bit. After all, in her hours of searching, she didn't come across anything pertaining to _that _rumour, meaning she can finally set her heart at ease and drag her tired-out body home.

_Hm, I guess everything I heard about Tohno-kun was baseless after all. If only I believed in him a bit more, then I wouldn't have had to waste so much time in such a dangerous situation. Well, I guess it serves me right for doubting him. _

Her thoughts ending again, Satsuki pivoted on her heels, and turned to leave in the opposite direction she came from. In her carelessness, her hands brushed past those of a stranger's.

But just from that contact, Satsuki could tell that something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. It wasn't just that the stranger's hands were ice cold, but the coldness itself radiated a sense of decay, despair and hunger. And that was NOT good.

_Th…this...this is…?_

Sharply recoiling her hands at the contact, Satsuki couldn't help but pass a glance at the one towering before her.

He was a man of about five foot nine, wrapped head to toe in a large, olive-green coat; its hood was drawn and cast a dark shadow across his visage, obscuring his features. His gaze was clouded and amnesiac, but somehow, this took nothing away from its power and clarity.

_I…I need to get away!_

But she couldn't move at all. She was drawn to those eyes, those perfect, crimson orbs that promised to rid her mind of those pesky worries and fears. Those eyes that spoke of the void, those that gave her a tiny glimpse of the Root's swirl.

Her vision died, taking her consciousness with it.

* * *

_I want that life back._

**I can give it back to you.**

_That's impossible._

"Nothing's impossible when there's a miracle."

A malice-laced voice interrupted Satsuki's recollections, surprising her into opening her now crimson eyes for the first time that night. Ever since she first became a vampire, her actions have become ruled by instincts and emotions rather than her actual thoughts. The stranger's promise didn't even register in her mind because at that instant, her instincts are telling her to extinguish that malice; to kill now and ask questions later.

Slowly standing up and fully prepared to deal with what she perceived to be a threat, her gaze shifted to identify the source of the voice. But despite her hawk-like vision, Satsuki couldn't identify anything that seemed out of place. The back alley where she spends most of her day appeared as desolate as ever. Even the voice itself was untraceable; it seemed to have reverberated from nowhere and everywhere.

"You can't even detect my presence? And to think that we're about to make someone as useless as you into an Ancestor." The voice sounds again, this time taking a mocking tone.

Choosing not to respond to the voice's taunts, Satsuki closed her eye, opting instead to reach out to her surroundings with her conscience; sure enough, her enemies' life force radiated from a location beneath her feet. Opening her eyes once more, she reached out and smashed a hole in the concrete ground. The life force quickly ebbed away. Sighing heavily to herself, Satsuki dashed away from the alley and through the barren city streets. After all, what she killed was most likely only an enemy familiar. The owner of the voice was no doubt unharmed and ready to come after her once more. Even so, a question lingers in her mind.

"What does an Ancestor want with me?"

"Didn't you hear me the first time? I want to help you become human. Is that so hard for your decaying brain to wrap around?" This time the voice definitely had a source, and the source was…dammit, right in front of her.

Stopping in her tracks, Satsuki silently observed the brunette standing idly before her.

Looking like a middle school girl of about twelve, and quite beautiful for her age, the vampire's (for that was obviously what she was) pale skin shone like liquid moonlight, creating a delightful contrast with her gothic style of dress. Her eyes, like those of most Dead Apostles, were crimson and radiated a sense of authority and vanity. As she looked ahead, her expression changed to that of a condescending sneer.

"They say that vampires take after their parent Dead Apostle, but from what I see, you're nowhere near as competent or ambitious as the Serpent. Though I guess it might be better for you that way; after all, look at where the Serpent is now? Completely eradicated by the White Princess. Completely eradicated by someone _I _defeated. Which means I'm stronger than him. Yeah, that's right. No matter what they say, I did not lose to that slimy old geezer! Yeah, that was just a feint, a tactic to…"

At this point, Satsuki was completely confused. While the killing intent in the air has mostly dissipated, listening to the brunette's off-topic drivels really was wearing down on her patience. Choosing to interrupt her detailed recount of how the great Rouge-tan fought against the heretic Roa (notice the use of fought, since she most certainly did not lose!), Satsuki spoke up for the first time that night.

"You said you can turn me back to what I was before, and that I can have a miracle. What do you mean by that, Rouge-chan?"

Hearing the question, the Dead Apostle apparently named Rouge gave Satsuki a look of utter disdain, as if her question couldn't be stupider. "First of all, call me Rouge-tan! Remember that! Although if you really wanted to worship me, I guess Altrouge-sama, ohime-sama would be okay too. But you know, I really want to highlight my _moe_-ness, so Rouge-tan is preferred. But sometimes I do get bored of…"

"Umm…Rouge-tan, my question…?"

"Never, ever interrupt the Black Princess of the Dead Apostles! But I guess I do have more pressing matters to attend to, so I'll save time and answer your question, as stupid as it is. The miracle I'm referring to is _obviously _the Fifth Heaven's Feel that's about to start. Whoever wins that has their wish granted by the omnipotent Grail of Fuyuki. Since its _omnipotent_, it'll be a piece of cake to undo your half-baked vampirism and make you human again." Altrouge said, all the while pronouncing _human_ the way most people would say "nutritious dog food" (which probably wasn't too far from the truth).

Hearing Altrouge's words, Satsuki almost jumped for joy at the very real prospect of having her old life back. However, her instincts immediately kicked in, and she narrowed her eyes. In a distrustful tone, she asked, "Why are you doing this? It's obvious that you don't care about me at all. You would probably enjoy it more if I died right here. Just what are you after?"

As if completely oblivious to the sudden change in atmosphere, Altrouge's hands brushed aside a loose strand of hair, and went on in her carefree voice, "It annoys me to say this, but I don't have enough power to kill you at this time. My main body is helping out at the Aylesbury ritual, so the most I can spare is a familiar or two to coordinate things here. I also have word that the Church will be actively participating in this War, and whatever they want to have, I want them to not have. After all, a good master gets revenge for their underlings; those white-robed geezers won't get away for sealing my minions. And finally…"

At this, Altrouge's eyes narrowed as well, emanating undiluted killing intent. "Ortenrosse ji-san mentioned this last time, and I think he was being entirely serious. As preposterous as it may be, he plans to induct you into the Twenty Seven Dead Apostle Ancestors. We don't need two _moe _princesses in a single organization. And you know what; your tragic back-story might earn you even MORE popularity than me! That's…that's why I have to take such drastic measures!" Pumping her hands up in "righteous" fury, Altrouge continued to glare daggers at the thoroughly confused girl before her.

Said thoroughly confused girl could only give a slight mumble in response, "Umm…okay?"

Satisfied, Altrouge regained her composure and nodded in a princely manner. "I'm glad that my flawless logic convinced you. In that case, there's no time to waste. We'll begin traveling to Fuyuki now, and I'll take some of my precious time to fill you in on the details of the War."

With these words, she began walking away, fully expecting Satsuki to follow. Sensing that this wasn't the case, Altrouge turned back and yelled, "Hurry up you popularity-stealing hag! Do you expect me to carry you or something?"

"Umm…Rouge-tan, Fuyuki is that way…"


	2. For His Chalice

**1 Day Ago: For His Chalice**

Being the popular tourist attraction that it is, the Vatican is no stranger to peculiar tourists. In fact, one can say that the sheer diversity and quantity of people that visit Christianity's capital attests to the power and influence of the Holy Church itself. As such, the presence of a young, Japanese-looking boy in white priest robes standing outside the _Santa Maria della Pieta_ did not draw much attention at all.

It did help that said boy did nothing to draw this unnecessary interest; giving the surrounding area a quick scan, he quickly rapped at the church's wooden doors. A few seconds later, the door creaked open, and he stepped inside.

Hearing the door slam shut behind him as usual, Merem Solomon couldn't help but shudder at what he was about to face. As powerful as he was, he actually had no guarantee that he could get out of this situation alive. One wrong word, one seemingly blasphemous gesture and he would be in for the fight of his life.

Usually in situations like these, the church itself would provide him with a brief respite; Merem especially enjoyed how its interior would be completely illuminated in a myriad of colors from light peering in through the stained glass windows. Then there was the rich mahogany smell emanating from the rows of backed-benches and the intricately depicted wall murals. The tranquility invoked by this particular church really was second to none.

But Merem had eyes for none of those today. From the moment he walked in, his eyes were focused on the slim figure of the woman sitting on one of the benches. She had her back to him, so the most he could see was her long blonde hair, but he knew better than to disturb her. The Burial Agency's leader did things at her own pace, and those who interrupt this pace…make very messy corpses. Things stayed like this, and the woman gave no indication of acknowledging his presence. As time passed, Merem too felt the tension fading away, and softened his gaze.

After what felt like a lifetime, the woman finally spoke up, "I've been waiting a while, Fifth."

Her voice, though soft, prompted a primal feeling of fear in Merem's long-dead soul. Thus, his response was hurried and somewhat cracked.

"I apologize for the delay Narbarek, but I came as soon as I was informed of your summons. It wasn't my intent to inconvenience you in any way."

At this, the woman named Narbarek stood up, inducing a flinch from the Dead Apostle behind her. In a voice similar to before, she continued, "See to it that it doesn't happen again. But you have no reason to worry; I haven't been angered yet. After all, I have found an event that has piqued my interest."

"Tell me Merem, what is your opinion of the Einzbern's Heaven's Feel?"

The question was unexpected, and Merem's eyes narrowed. He would have to tread carefully. "I care not of it. Why should we, the Buriers, be concerned about the Magus' attempt at the Root? After all, the war is revolving around the Holy Grail in name only; it's impossible for that wish machine to actually be Christ's cup."

Having spoken, Merem returned his attention to observing the woman before him. On her part, Narbarek paused to drink from a goblet that had gone unnoticed in her hands until now. Thirst quenched, she left the cup by her bench and moved to examine a nearby mural. Eventually, her voice rang out once more, this time with a slight hint of fervency.

"That has been our policy until now. We ignored the war, choosing instead to focus on slaying and sealing your kin, the Dead Apostles. But I fear that we have become too focused in one area and neglecting others. After all, would you not consider that sham of a Grail to be complete blasphemy towards Him? As Buriers, is it not our duty to punish those who dare make a mockery of His Grace?"

Hearing this, Merem worriedly asked, "But what of the Magus Association? The Heaven's Feel system itself was constructed by three major families and a wizard marshal; would they not seek revenge if we make-"

"That's enough!" As if she could no longer tolerate the words of cowards and those with wavering faith, the woman turned to face him for the first time that day. With a murderous glint in her ebony eyes, she shouted, "The Magus Association houses the most deviant heretics that exist! Some have even gone so far as to turn themselves into Dead Apostles. You know this. Isn't it about time we show them just how the Church deals with heretics, Merem?"

Seeing that there was no point in arguing further, Merem sighed, signalling his resignation to Narbarek's plans. "I understand why you have sent for me now. I will fulfill this duty to the best of my ability."

Hearing this, Narbarek's expression contorted to that of a weird smile. In a curious tone, she continued, "It's unhealthy to assume things and make decisions for me. After all, I might consider it a sign of disrespect, and you would die where you stand."

The tension in the room immediately elevated to unbearable levels. Merem's eyes widened and for a second, his slim limbs seemed to grow bigger and more grotesque. Seeing this reaction, Narbarek couldn't help but lick her lips at the scent of fear in the air. Things were definitely getting entertaining.

"And yet again, you made an assumption that I would kill you; Dead Apostles never learn do they? Rest assured, Merem, I still have uses for you. As for why I called you here today…it's to contact the Seventh about her newest mission."

"…Ciel…? Then you mean…?"

"Yes. She is the one I have chosen. As one of the Serpent's past lives, she is similar enough to a Magus to summon a Servant for that war. She will be the one to destroy the false Grail and deliver punishments fitting for heretics. As I am preoccupied at the moment, you will go to her in my steed, Merem."

Though hearing the details of Narbarek's plan relieved him greatly, Merem couldn't help but speak once more, "But the Serpent no longer exists. Ciel…she can be killed now. While she may be a first-class Executor, against Servants-"

"I'm sorry, but are you interpreting my words as orders for Seventh's death? If so, then you are mistaken—I am merely gauging her worth. If she dies, then she was useless to begin with."

At this, Narbarek paused, and turned her back to him once more. "But to think that you have the audacity to suggest something like this...you have been exceedingly irritating today, Merem—so much so that I'm just itching to lop your head off with a Black Key. The Church might even reward me for adding another Ancestor to my 'Successfully Captured' list."

Paling even more than usual at her words, Merem felt his body freeze up. It was in this state that he croaked out his next words, "I apologize for my insolence today; it was never my intention to question you. I will now take my leave."

Bowing awkwardly to the woman who still had her back to him, Merem quickly made his way to the door and jerked it open. Without looking back, he stepped out into the Vatican streets once more and closed the door.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he marvelled at his narrow escape; Narbarek really was tempted to kill him, and ironically, she was a woman that easily gave in to temptations. Making it out alive certainly was a stroke of luck.

_Now all I got to do is contact Ciel and my business with that madwoman will be over for a while. _

With that reassuring thought in mind, the Dead Apostle Ancestor quickly left to find his unfortunate scapegoat.

* * *

Sinking lower and lower into her mansion's leather sofa, Rin rubbed her temples for what felt like the hundredth time that day. But who could blame her? She was a perfectionist, and perfectionists don't take well to things going wrong. And boy, did things go wrong for her yesterday.

First there was the issue with her family clocks being early, robbing her of an hour of precious sleep. Then she had to listen to a condescending Kirei as he mockingly reminded her of her Servant-less state. Adding to that, of all the cards she could've drawn, she got an inconsiderate amnesiac like Archer for a Servant? Just how much more unlucky can she get?

"Tea is ready, Master."

_Well, at least he's great at making tea. And he's decent at housework too. Yup Rin. Keep thinking like this. Don't think about the property damage from the jerk's summoning. Don't think about your lack of sleep and aching body. Most importantly, DO NOT think about your utter failure in summoning something other than a Saber…_

Accidentally remembering this huge blunder once again, Rin continued to rub her temples with increasing vigour.

"I was under the impression that you enjoyed my tea, Rin. If that is still the case, you should drink it while it is still warm. It would be a shame to let such exquisite tea leaves go to waste." Putting an emphasis on _enjoyed_, Archer silently gloated on his mini-victory over his master. Indeed, good food and tea was one of the few ways anyone could tame someone like Rin.

Still rubbing her temples, she replied, "It's true that I enjoyed it Archer, but can I have a bit more time to think by myself without anyone interrupting me? Can't you tell that your master is in a bad mood?"

At this, Archer flashed a sympathetic smile and gave her a small pat on the back. "I see. I didn't realize it was that time of the month again. In that case, I sincerely apologize for my-"

Archer would've finished his sentence, but even Servant level reflexes couldn't save him from having boiling tea water thrown at his face. As a blushing Rin was about to deliver further judgement on her Servant however, a sharp pain drilled into her head and she temporarily lost her sense of balance. In the process, her left foot slipped and her entire body plummeted to the floor.

Or rather, she would've plummeted on the floor had Archer not grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. A look of concern washed over his face; it wasn't like his master to have such clumsy accidents. Something must be really wrong.

"Ar…Archer…?"

"Rin, is something wrong? Did something happen just now?"

Seeing the worried look on Archer's face, Rin couldn't help but blush even deeper. With a weak smile, she responded, "Th…this is just backlash. Someone attacked and completely eradicated the bounded field surrounding this mansion. This probably means that we're under attack by a Servant…so…so I'll be relying on you for this, Archer."

Archer's eyes hardened and gave her a reassuring smile.

"Perfect timing. Watch carefully Rin; I'll show you just how lucky you are to have summoned me in this war."

* * *

_Two cards have yet to be drawn, but it has already started. This is the beginning of the Fifth Heaven's Feel._


	3. The Hero of Wrought Iron

**1 Day Ago: The Hero of Wrought Iron**

The bounded field surrounding the Tohsaka mansion had two purposes: prevent access from those with malicious intent, and if unsuccessful, allow Rin to continuously locate the enemy as long as they remained in the mansion. Needless to say, the field is extremely high level thaumaturgy and has served its purpose without fail until now. To think that someone would be able to eradicate the field, trace it to her, and attack her using this link—as much as she doesn't want to admit it, Rin was facing a superior Magus.

But having to fight such an enemy wasn't beyond her expectations; Rin had always known that there will be Masters who completely outclass her. When that time comes, she can only put her faith in her Servant's abilities and trust him to bring her victory.

And Archer could definitely be trusted. The concerned look in his eyes reassured her of that.

* * *

For his part, Archer was fully prepared to deal with the incoming enemy, but his success would require his Master's cooperation, something that's probably harder to secure than victory itself. A little persuasion would be in order.

"Rin…I'll need you—"

Seeing Archer take on an uncomforting tone, Rin couldn't help but smile to herself. In a quiet voice, she cut him off, "Yes. I understand Archer—in my present condition, I would only be in the way. You don't have to worry about anything; this is the Tohsaka mansion after all. I'll find a suitable place to hide, so you can engage the enemy at full power."

Nodding once at his Master's words, Archer placed her gently on a nearby sofa and turned to leave. However, as he opened the door to the next room, Rin's worried voice rang out once more.

"Archer…this…this will be your first battle. That's why you better not die and disappoint your Master!"

Even though his back was turned, Archer could easily imagine the blush that was surely adorning Rin's face at the moment. His lips curving into a smirk, he replied with words full of confidence. "I will have no problem obeying that order, Master."

Closing the door behind him, Archer's expression immediately changed to that of a deep frown. His words were only meant to comfort Rin and couldn't be farther from reality. While he wasn't exactly a stellar Magus, Archer could tell that his Master was defeated in a battle of Magecraft. Furthermore, the strength of the Servant is often reflected in the strength of their Master; if these assumptions were anything to go by, Archer actually had no guarantees that he would get out of this fight unscathed.

Despite this apprehension, there was no way that he would back down; logically speaking, a brief skirmish now would be the perfect opportunity to gauge his opponent's skill. The intruder wasn't very hard to find either; Archer easily sensed the Servant's presence and it doesn't seem to be moving at all.

"_A challenge? It's probably either a Saber or Lancer in that case."_

With that thought in mind, he shifted into astral form and quickly approached his target's location in the mansion's garden. Arriving a second later, Archer got his first good look at the intruder.

The Heroic Spirit was a man of about six feet. Dressed in a blue skin-tight suit and leaving his dark blue hair tied in a ponytail, his crimson eyes and unnaturally large canines emitted a feral sense of power. While his left hand was fiddling with a hydrangea, the two-meter long, demonic lance he carried on his right made it clear that he was a Lancer Servant.

Sensing Archer's arrival, Lancer straightened up from his initial crouching position, and proceeded to shift his lance into a ready to thrust posture. In a casual voice, he asked, "Yo! Pretty nice garden you got here. Your Master must be a real cutie to grow all these; care to introduce me sometime?"

Having materialized a few seconds before, Archer could only sigh at his words. If this was Lancer's idea of "small talk", then this battle would indeed be very vulgar. His lips pulled into a tight grimace, Archer replied, "I'm sorry, but my Master wouldn't be interested in meeting a soon to be corpse."

Hearing Archer's bold declaration, Lancer's face contorted into a wild smile and the demonic lance held across his body took on a reddish glow as his prana surged through it. His voice filled with murderous intent, Lancer shouted out, "Ha! I like your confidence. I like it so much that I can't hold myself back any longer; nameless Servant, here I come!"

Lancer covered the distance between them in less than a second. Stopping two meters in front of Archer, he mercilessly thrust out with his blood red weapon. The tendons in the left and right shoulders—two strikes, one after the other, but seemingly simultaneously—Lancer was aiming to incapacitate Archer and end the battle with the first assault.

Yet the thrusts, thrown at a speed surpassing thought, did not reach their targets. With a single leap, Lancer returned to his original position, and a flash of annoyance crossed his face. Focusing his eyes on Archer's figure, he observed the twin swords that had been materialized to block his technique.

The blades, one black, one white, were of Chinese make and were identical in every other regard. Much like the Heroic Spirit that wielded them, they were nothing spectacular; indeed, while they were divine mysteries that transcend space-time, the two had no spirit, no conscience to speak of. Whereas his lance exuded a demonic presence and an almost overwhelming blood thirst, Archer's blades contained neither the desire to be famous, nor the faith to accomplish great deeds. The blades themselves were without a purpose, and that infuriated Lancer.

Shifting his posture, Lancer addressed his opponent in a disappointed tone.

"Che. Normally I would be happy to have a nice long brawl with a fellow Servant, win or lose." Lancer's eyes narrowed and anger colored his voice before he continued, "But fighting someone who has forgotten his pride as a Heroic Spirit is meaningless. Man, I was really looking forward to having a little fun before killing you, but you irritate me so much that I just have to pierce that empty heart of yours."

Remaining expressionless and silent despite Lancer's words, Archer crossed his twin blades in front of his body in preparation for a new wave of assault from the enemy. But the anticipated attack did not come. Instead, Lancer's form sank lower and lower, with his spearhead pointing towards the ground.

A second passed. Two seconds passed.

Normally, Archer would've treated an opponent's inactivity as a sign of vulnerability, but his instincts told him this was anything but a normal moment. Call it a premonition if you will, but a bead of sweat formed on his brow as Archer realized that he would die if he moved even a step closer to Lancer.

No. That's inaccurate. From the moment Lancer adopted that posture, he was already dead.

The prana in the air froze as the demonic lance pulsated with a deep crimson glow, almost as if it was anticipating the moment when its true name would be called, the moment when it would be released as a Noble Phantasm to take the life of the nameless Servant foolish enough to stand before it.

Another second passed. The time has finally come. Lancer's lips eased open to utter the two syllables that would ensure death.

"Gae —"

"Please stop."

A feminine voice interrupted Lancer's chant and the murderous intent in the air immediately dissipated. Seemingly displeased at having a kill denied, the lance throbbed once before ceasing its glow as well. On the contrary, Lancer lips curved into a smirk, and looked quite pleased to hear the voice.

"Your wish is my command, Bazett."

Hearing his words, Archer glanced around to locate the source of the voice; his efforts were awarded when, a moment later, a very serious looking woman stepped out from the shrubs surrounding the garden. Primly walking over to stand beside her Servant, the woman proceeded to scrutinize Archer. Needless to say, Archer gave her a quick look over as well.

A woman of about five foot six. Magenta hair cut at neck-level, wearing a typical Western getup consisting of a suit, tie and dress pants. She was also wearing gloves, so her Command Mantra's could not be seen but her status as Lancer's Master has pretty much been confirmed.

Not caring about the atmosphere at all, Lancer addressed his Master in a sulking voice, "Actually, strike that. My lance here was cheated out of a kill and I'm pretty unhappy at the moment. But y'know, you can totally make that up to me with a small smooch on the cheek? Come on, cheer your Servant up."

Under different circumstances, Bazett would've been more than happy to oblige. As it was, she flushed a very deep red but nevertheless ignored her Servant. Turning to address Archer, she said, "It seems like I was mistaken. My informant told me that Tohsaka Rin had summoned an Archer, but judging from your Noble Phantasm back there, you must be a Saber?"

Still expressionless, Archer replied, "You shouldn't be so quick to doubt your informant. My class is Archer."

Looking quite taken aback at the notion of an Archer wielding swords, Bazett's eyes widened slightly. Her lapse, however, lasted less than a second, and she continued, "Oh okay. In that case, Archer, I'll get to the point. It might surprise you, but we didn't actually come here today for a fight. I only wanted to speak to Ms. Tohsaka about a pressing matter, but it seems like we overdid it."

Archer's reply was quick and forceful. "You destroyed the mansion's bounded field and attacked Rin. Your Servant was just about to kill me. I've already considered you as an enemy."

Not fazed in the least, Bazett said, "But I stopped him, didn't I? And as for Ms. Tohsaka, it seems like I overestimated her. As the supervisor of Fuyuki city and an Average One, she has quite the reputation back at the Clock Tower. I didn't expect her to be hurt so easily."

A look of disdain flashed across her face for a second, but was quickly hidden once more.

"Nevertheless, I apologize for today's intrusion. It doesn't seem like I'll get to talk to Ms. Tohsaka so we'll leave for now."

Bazett removed a card from her breast pocket and flicked it at Archer before continuing, "Give that to your Master. I'll let her use today to regain her strength, so we'll meet tomorrow at the time and place written on that card. Tell her that it's a direct order from the Clock Tower, so she better show up."

Her business finished, Bazett turned to leave the mansion, with Lancer following her in astral form. The duo disappeared a moment later.

* * *

**A/N: Hi there! First of all, I would like to thank everyone for reading this far into the fanfic, and rest assured, the action will start soon, so stay tuned for more! **

**Secondly, I'm writing this fanfiction because I love F/SN, and also because I really want to improve my abilities as a writer, so constructive criticism will always be appreciated. Of course, if you like how the story is progressing so far, please do tell me as well! Reviews really keep me motivated and in-tune with my readers.  
**

**Finally, I would just like to make it clear that I have not created any OC's or new concepts in this fic. I try to describe anything that might be beyond the scope of F/SN within the story to the best of my ability but if you want to know more, a quick search on the Type-Moon wiki will clarify everything. If there are still things that are confusing, feel free to leave me a message and I'll try my best to explain the lore behind Nasuverse. A quick thank you to Green Phire for bringing up this point~  
**


End file.
